


A Dawn of Possibilities

by Corvus_Rosier



Series: Parallel Complexities [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Both Harry and Draco Travel, Dimension Travel, F/M, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27511318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvus_Rosier/pseuds/Corvus_Rosier
Summary: Where both Harry and Draco go back in time, to their first year bodies. Only it doesn't go how it's meant to be.
Series: Parallel Complexities [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010637
Comments: 18
Kudos: 61





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The Harry Potter Universe nor its characters do not belong to me. That's all JKs.  
> A/N: So, guys, this is just a teaser kind of prologue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT (28/01/2021): I have edited out grammar mistakes I've found.

It was never supposed to happen.

_ '...do you ever wish...' _

It wasn't meant to be real.

_ '... it''ll be great...' _

A joke.

_ '...we could redo it all...' _

Old wounds reopened; scabs that were once tentatively left alone bleeding at the only moment of weakness shown since the end of the war.

_ '...wouldn't it be great, to be able to go back and re-do everything again, only with the knowledge we have now...' _

It was an innocent enough statement. Although intoxicating, a dream.

_ '...we could save lives! And you'd finally have the happiness you deserve!..' _

Well, now we learned the old saying was true.

_ BE CAREFUL OF WHAT YOU WISH FOR _

  
  


Though we wouldn’t change it. 

Not for the world.


	2. A Glance at the Present, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheers! and enjoy!  
> Ps. I got inspired for one of the scenes back in September, during one of my poetry lessons were we analysed Winter Swans.
> 
> EDIT: Just brushing up on the grammar.

It had not yet frozen. Its surface was a thick crystal-clean liquid surrounded by the coat of pure snow; it meandered around the lake he stood in front of, silently. Harry Potter stared forwards, determinedly so. So still was the sight, as though stuck in time: chilled, lost at its own place. Harry's breath puffed up ahead of him, not entirely disrupting the visage, not wholly adding to it.

Though Ginny Weasley's ginger-red hair, an eye-catching beacon of flames on the winter backdrop, did disrupt the spot. Her beige coat fluttered behind her in the cold, gusty winds whilst her perfume lingered in the air: a sweet strawberry; Harry was well over sick of it.

The trees had lost their leaves and, by now, their arms stood, exposed to nature's harsh elements. There was not a cloud in sight, and except for the sound of the cool winter breeze shaking the trembling wings, you could hear not a thing.

Then came a flock of white birds with curved necks, some with orange beaks whilst others had black ones. They were all beautiful. They squealed with delight almost in time with Ginny. Their wings ruffled and out grandly.

... Swans

And Harry found himself lost in a memory. One of those he tried so hard to repress. Of which he wished disappeared. It resurfaced from the deepest parts of his Occlumency shielded mind and he knew, indefinitely, it would not let him go.

***

_ A pale hand clutched his own tightly as they snuggled side by side on the winter day. Harry's head burrowed at the crock of the taller one's neck, his nose brushing those perfect silver-blonde locks he loved so much. Adoring it’s slightly longer length than at Hogwarts. _

_ The scent of vanilla encompassed him, so intoxicating: the smell of pure -oh!- "Draco…" He moaned, making Draco chuckle that beautiful, melodic laugh of his, melting Harry to the core. His legs felt like jelly and he slumped down against the chest. _

_ There was a wild fluttering sound, those of wings flapping against each other and then the warmth of the arm wrapped around his waist pulling him ever so close to the -oh, so warm- body.  _

_ Seeing the necks of the swans twining together; creating love hearts, rolling their bodies as if to share burdens with each other, together, and becoming free, it lightened him. _

_ Draco smiled fondly at him, the mercury silver eyes shining with love, before moving his mouth breaths away from Harry's ear, murmuring, "swans, Harry. They mate for life, you know," and letting those -oh, so beautiful- lips brush against his ear lobes, teasing. The fiery breath increasing his heartbeat, a light blush started dusting his cheeks. _

_ Harry looked back to see that familiar smile and, not being able to resist the temptation any longer, _

_ lunged in for a fierce, _

_ heated kiss. _

_ sensations of _

_ lips against lips. _

_ tonguestwining. _

_ so wet and dirty  _

_ goinghardsohard  _

__

_ -breath-  _

__

_ 'DracoIloveyou... _

_ ...so...fuckingmuch'... _

_ And the heat pooling on his stomach,  _

_ going down,  _

_ down,  _

_ down…. _

***

Ginny brought him back to reality. Her arms snaked around his right, clutched with desperation shown through her voice.

"Look, Harry!" She screeched, pushing her face too near his own. Her cheeks were red, and she was wearing a bright smile that was meant to melt him. "Look! Swans!" It didn't.

Harry looked at her, trying to find the spark. The love he once felt for her and found nothing. He gave her a quick, strained smile, looking back to the pond just as fast. Whispering to himself softly, if only to keep his loneliness at bay, " they mate for life, you said." Sighing and wishing he were anywhere but here. 

This place was meant to be their place. Ginny wasn't meant to be here: this place, varnished in snow, with its naked trees surrounding the pond and its winter swans. She didn't belong in the picture. (He ignored the fact that Draco and he were never a thing. That there were no feelings involved. Only there was, but they didn't talk about it once. It was irrelevant.) The thing that mattered was that Ginny could not take away another thing that belonged to him and Dra-Malfoy. It wasn't fair.

And so a coil of resentment began to grow. The question was if it was fresh or had always been there 

*** 

The flames turned green before it spat him out. Tumbling onto the floor, Harry glared at the fireplace before sighing, suddenly becoming tired and slumping down, his own back against the back of the bright, red couch.

His gaze wandered around the cluttered room. Objects picked by Ginny whenever she had the time scattered around the entire room. After all, being an internationally famous Quidditch player for one of its major teams (the Holyhead Harpies) could take a lot of one's time. He shook his head again. The place looked cosy enough, homey even - only it didn’t feel like home. Just a place he came back to everyday, a house that he came to with no sentimental feelings holding him. It was like the platform of a train, except the train wasn’t coming soon and he remained, waiting. Still.

It was late now. The sky had darkened, and there were faint stars on a show. He could have come back earlier -he finished work at five- but the very thought of coming ‘home’ to Ginny’s clear want made him puke. Most of their conversations nowadays seemed to consist of arguments that escalated pretty quickly. 

She wanted to marry. Mrs Weasley wanted them to marry. Ron and Hermione wanted them to marry. Their argument being they had lived together for around three years now and that they would be lovely, happy couples together. It had become unbearable, especially now he knew more than ever he did not like her that way. In fact, they hadn’t slept together for over a year or two now.

He was more interested in… blondes.

With silver eyes.

And a sturdy chest.

And long legs.

And those beautiful, gorgeous-

-Draco Malfoy.

Harry picked himself up, dusting off invisible lint off his cloak whilst moving away from the living room, through the door to the corridor leading upstairs. The lights were off, so the corridor had sinister darkness cloaked around it. He silently climbed up, careful to skip the third one down as it creaked and he didn’t want to wake up Ginny to her insistent nagging. 

Upstairs, he was careful to tiptoe at the right side of the corridor (where Ginny’s bedroom was on) to the left side, skipping the bathroom at the centre. He shrugged that off his cloak whilst entering and then draping it over the coat hanger at the back of the door.

He didn’t bother to get changed before he fell into sleep’s clutches: tomorrow was going to be a long day. And he wasn't sure he could survive it.


	3. A Glance at the Present, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you all for reading this! It makes my heart flutter and lets a real, true smile grace my face. Thank you all...
> 
> On with the story!  
> Enjoy :)))
> 
> EDIT: Just brushing up my grammar and spellings.

When Harry woke up, it was to the pecking noises coming from outside his window. He turned and groaned inside his pillow willing for the noise to just go away and leave him alone, although he knew it was a losing battle.

Proved corrected not five seconds later, the owl began squawking angrily. Harry sighed to himself, making a note on how much he was sighing nowadays, and blearily got up, putting on his glasses on the way.

Yesterday’s shirt untucked and running a hand through hair a bigger mess than usual he opened the window. The owl flew in, along with a current of cold which woke him up instantly. 

It was an owl he recognised easily: Exordium, Draco Malfoy’s owl. He shook his head remorsefully looking at the letter laying on the floor -not quite touching the outside of his shaggy, grey carpet- the familiar handwriting causing his insides to twist and turn. The Eagle-Owl simply glared at him, ignoring his internal turmoil, before flying out of the open window.

With trembling hands, Harry picked up the letter, breaking off the too formal Malfoy seal. The letter slipped onto his hand.

His mind noted the expensive parchment and ink used; it also mentally prepared him for its content. The letter was short and simple; almost confusing.

\----- ----- ----- ----- 

~~_ Harry, Mr Potter, Harry Potter, _ ~~

_ Harry, _

_ The Three Broomsticks, 3 o’clock tomorrow afternoon. _

~~_ Malfoy, Draco, Draco Malfoy, _ ~~

_ Draco. _

\----- ----- ----- ----- 

Hmm. Not cryptic at all. And definitely not at all sudden; without warning. His mind refused to wonder what the 'meeting' was going to be about. It's not like it was going to be about work, right?

Harry was an Auror and, as far as he knew, Dra- Malfoy didn't work at all. 

Partly because most wizards didn't want to employ an ex-convicted Death Eater (no matter how many OWLs, NEWTs or Masters he had- which was quite a few- and no you could not ask Harry where he got his information from since he would not answer and most likely become flustered). Mostly, it was because Draco himself didn't want to work and he really didn't need to work - old money. But then, Harry didn't have to work either, however, after the war, he felt he had a moral obligation to. To round up all the other escaped death eaters and Voldemort sympathisers.

Harry tried to ignore the little flame of hope flickering in the deep pits of his stomach, the part of himself that wanted the meeting to be so much more. He knew it wasn't possible. 

***

He felt like they were purposefully torturing him. 

They gave Harry paperwork duties whilst the others, including Ron, got to go chase the new trail around the south-west of England. There were apparently ‘not dark enough to be illegal but still quite dark’ potion brewers around the area and quite a few muggles bought them thinking they’re energy drinks. It seemed to cause much mayhem.

Harry sighed, leaning back against his office chair, arms wrapped around each other on the surface of the littered desk. Glancing at his watch, he noted the time: quarter to three.

Feeling like a butterbeer bottle brimming to open, Harry jumped out off the chair, a wide smile gracing his face and green eyes dazzling brightly. He quickly put on his cloak, clasping it on and instinctively using a hand to flatten down his hair. It was, of course, a lost course.

He pinched some Floo powder before throwing it in, enunciating ‘the Three Broomsticks’ clearly, before stepping in- no need to repeat another Flooing fiasco.

Like every single time, the green fire spat him out, covering him in ash. He muttered a few casual swear words whilst trying to brush off the dirt, only getting them smudged on his hands.

A quiet chuckle shook him out of his revere, alerting Harry of the other's presence. That and the fact he was suddenly clean of all dirt. He spun around instinctively, so fast it could have been mistaken for a whiplash and could have broken his neck.

It didn't matter.

Draco Malfoy was standing in front of him.

His blond hair as perfect as ever, only now, it wasn't slicked back. It fluttered around his face. His eyes were still the beautiful silver grey they used to be, and  _ oh, so familiar _ . Harry could see through the cracks of his facade, his warmth. 

He was pretty sure he squeaked, "Draco! I mean Malfoy!" whilst Draco simply waved his hand lazily, the hawthorn wand twirling around with practised grace.

"Potter. Still as oblivious to magic as ever. Why you insist on doing things the muggle way, I will never understand." His tone was fond, almost affectionate so Harry didn't fall for the bait. Just smiled. Harry's smile probably let show his nervousness just alerted him of the fact Malfoy was too good at reading him. 

Draco sighed. Suddenly a tired smile let out his face as he whispered, "Harry, just follow me for now," and looking at Harry's uncertainty added a quiet "please."

He nodded and made to follow him to a table when a hand stopped him. "I booked a room upstairs. We have a lot to talk to that is safer being said in private. I'll answer your questions then."

The walk to the room was quiet. Both of them made sure to keep at least two meters away from each other. The stairs beneath their feet cracked often enough and loud enough to ignore their silence. At the top, Malfoy turned left to the last room. 

It was a neat office room. Looked as if used during business meetings. There was a large rectangular table at the centre with straight-backed chairs surrounding it. The chandelier above it, whilst beautiful, also looked a bit neglected. There were a few portraits on the walls, all depicted different greenish foliage that swayed as if in wind. It showed no humans or animals- for privacy; he guessed.

The moment the door had shut, Harry opened his mouth. "So. What did you want to talk about?" Hushed by Malfoy, putting up secrecy wards in place. 

At Harry questioning look, he said "the matter of discussion is... delicate. I feel safer knowing no one can hear or see what is about to take place. Who knows, it might not even work and I rather not get fired and obviated."

A nudge of worry settled over Harry, only he blurted out, "you have a job?" It was surprising. Harry thought he knew everything about Malfoy and him not noticing made him feel like a total failure. "And what does that have anything to do with now? Are you in danger? What's going on, Draco?"

Draco pursed his lips, deciding on how to start the conversation. He looked at the painting of the ancient tree on the right, lost in thought. "Do you remember that day? We were talking about the advantages of time travel. Of going back as our eleven-year-old selves with the memories we have now."

Harry smiled nostalgically. "How could I forget that? You convinced me pretty well of the facts. Of the life we could have had. All the lives that we could save… It haunts me sometimes, you know?"

“Which is why I'm an Unspeakable.” At Harry’s shocked quiet he added, “I wanted to find a way. To make the dream a reality.” Their eyes met, both shining with new hope.

“Did you-did you find a… way?”

Draco smiled. “It took a lot of work, but yes. I did. Though it might not work how we were hoping for it to work -I couldn’t really test it.” Then he spoke really fast, gaining intensity and almost rambling, “No one knew about this project, I worked on it personally so no Unspeakable can know about what I was doing because if it doesn’t work I’ll be in a lot of trouble and- and I was wondering… Do you still want to come with me?”

Harry’s heart clenched. Draco looked so vulnerable, full of hope and guarded honesty as though fearing rejection... Not that Harry would blame him. Draco got rejected so many times by different people and Harry, too. And he went so far for Harry’s happiness, spending years trying to bring a dream their reality. One Draco promised him a childhood, a family, and happiness. 

His hand went to hold Draco’s, not hesitating before folding over the others. It felt so natural. The contrast between his own darker skin and Draco’s paler skin, it was mesmerising. Harry ignored Draco’s sudden hitched breath, to look deeply into the silver-grey eyes.

“Yes. Please.” He wasn’t ashamed that his voice cracked. “Do you even have to ask? Thank you.”

Draco closed his eyes, chest shuddering for a moment. “It’s at my place. When do you want to do it?”

“How’s tomorrow? I’ll just arrange a few things out and then... tomorrow.” Draco nodded. “How’s twelve? I need to sort some things out too and maybe we could discuss it more over Treacle Tarts. That is if you want to?”

“No. That’s fine.” Noting the mention of his favourite dessert, he asked glancing at their still clutched hands on the table, “are we okay? I mean, you remember my liking of Treacle Tarts and this was very sudden and-”

“Harry. We’re okay.” Voice firm. “So tomorrow?”

“Yes. Tomorrow.” 

Before Harry left, Draco came over to him, passing a piece of parchment. “My Floo address.” He looked into Harry’s green, green eyes, hesitating a moment, body pausing in thought. Disregarding them, Draco leant in for a quick peck on his cheek. Disapparating before Harry could process it in his daze.

He would have thought he imagined it, if not for the tingling left, over the place those lips had touched for the rest of the day. Or the lingering smell of vanilla after he went to bed, surrounding him in comfort.


	4. The Reality Of It All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! :)  
> EDIT: fixed up the grammar and spellings.

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the curtains openings, filtering through the glass all golden, creating little woven patterns on the warm, brown carpeting. 

"What do you mean you don’t want to marry!" Ginny's red face glared at him. Her hair was wild, eyes fiery and dangerous, her voice screeching, shocking him out of his reverie, he almost jumped off the sofa. “We've been together for three years now and I've given you enough space!” She clutched a fisted hand to her chest. “I didn’t like it but complied, then you had the audacity to move into another room. I didn't like it but I said fine if that’s what’ll take to be closer to you, for you to like me. Why do you not want to marry! Why don't you love me like how I love you!"

Harry ran an agitated hand through his hair, “Ginny it's not that. I just think-”

“No! You listen, Harry! Why? Am I not good enough for your greatness? Is that it? Am I too poor and boring for the precious Man-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, am I!” Her brown eyes watered with her increasing passion. And what little warmth the red walls of the living room seemed to have, dissipated as her broken body stood over him.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. His green eyes were thunderous. “You know I don’t think that way. Ginny.” 

“Then why? Because right now, you’re making me feel like shit.”

He stood up, moving closer to the door, putting distance between them. “I think we should break up.” Hushed silence met the pronouncement. She twisted to face him. 

“... What.” 

He took a moment to take in her broken expression, the hurt in her eyes. 

“You heard me. We should break up. This clearly isn't working out.” He paused. “We aren't working out.”

Her voice took in a higher pitch. “But why? Why Harry?” 

“Look you can see it's not working out. And I'm sorry. I can't return your feelings. I don't love you in the way you want me to. And it’s not your fault - this - it’s just- It’s not gonna work.”

Harry hated seeing Ginny in such a mess: he saw her as a sister. Tears were openly falling from her eyes. “Y- y- You're a jerk! I hate you!” 

But as he saw her run from the room, his heart began healing its wounds, reaching up high and it filled with hope; weights seemed to take flight from his shoulders, the weight of the sky and the world lifting away. And no matter how hard the decision, he knew it was for the best. 

This was something he needed to have done aeons ago. Because now, he left free, a concept he forgot for Merlin knows how many years.

***

Breakfast with the Weasley's couldn't be tenser. 

The entire family sat around the table- except Charlie, who was in Romania and Bill, who went to visit Fleur’s family in France. Mr Weasley sat nervously and uncomfortably tried to start a conversation on muggle ‘elek-tron-iks’ next to Mrs Weasley who visibly looked upset, eyes red and wary, though she tried to cover it up with a motherly smile. Harry appreciated their efforts. Ginny’s eyes were red and puffy in between Mrs Weasley and George: she seemed to tremble slightly. George was never happy nowadays. Right now, he just stared ahead, eyes empty and lifeless. Harry’s heart ached. 

If only he’d been quicker, faster.

Fred’s death could have been avoided. 

Ron sat next to Hermione, maybe too close together. Harry could see them holding hands underneath the table. Ron looked conflicted, his expression flickering towards Ginny and back again to Harry. Probably debating who to turn to: his sister or his best mate.

All those students. 

Their families. 

Harry’s hands gripped his knife and fork tightly, knuckles almost white. The eggs and bacon in front of him looked dead to him. Mrs Weasley’s cooking tasting of sand.

  
His own family. 

Tonks. 

Remus. 

Sirius. 

He shook away the thoughts. He was going to fix it all. He was going to save them this time. Hermione cleared her throat loudly, “Harry, could you pass me the salt, please.”

“Hmm. Sure.” Harry was grateful for her trying and sent her a small, grateful smile.

Ron butt in, “So. You wanted to talk about something with all of us, right, mate? It sounded pretty serious.” He announced in between mouthfuls of bacon, though his kind eyes never strayed.

He had talked to Ron and Hermione before coming in, warning them about- well the news he was going to spill during breakfast. He wanted to have talked to them yesterday, but he was so tired after seeing Teddy and Andromeda for the last time yesterday, he couldn’t spare any energy to explain it all. He fell straight to sleep.

“Oh. Yes that too, Harry. What is it?” fretted Hermione. “Are you okay? Are you in trouble? Can we help?” Ron stopped her by squeezing her hand. 

“Hush. It’s fine Hermione.” They had everyone's attention.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah. I mean I’m fine. I’m not in trouble” He paused, finding the right words. “I… the thing is -em- I might not see you after today? Well- I mean you won't see me -uh- from tomorrow onwards. Yeah. That.” He stopped the impulse of pushing his hair back.

After a moment of pause, Mrs Weasley looked over him. Face full of concern. “What do you mean, Harry dear?”

“Well,” Damn his stupid throat, stop catching! “Erm. Let's just say I… need to leave. I'm not coming back. I can’t come back. But it’s for the better.”

“What do you mean? You’re doing something stupid!” Hermione took a deep breath, realising how serious he was. “At least tell us what you’re going to do! Why can’t we see you? Where are you going?”

George broke in “... We can visit you, right? And whatever… you have to do, you’ll send letters, right?”

“No. Where I'm going, no one can reach unless they follow me there. And no! Ron, you have a life here, Hermione you too. You can’t come with me.” He shuddered. “I’ll miss you all, but this is necessary. I promise.”

“Is it going to make you happy?” Ginny demanded, eyes fiery again. Harry’s throat caught again. He answered with a sure "yes," which made her nod. Her determination showed the fierce warrior she truly was. “Then, I wish you good luck, Harry. I’m going to miss you.” Then she walked away, fiery hair floating behind her.

***

Draco didn't live in Malfoy Manor anymore. Harry thought he might have moved away because the Manor brought up dark memories of the war, Voldemort and the Death Eaters… And it wasn’t like he had many good memories 0f the place either, or at least, not good enough to make him stay. Harry knew if they gave him the Dursleys’ place, he would leave too. 

Draco's home was beautifully designed, actually. A house by the sea made of startling white marble. It was comforting, having the regal Draco effect. The sea view was a plus.

Right now, they sat on a very comfy dark grey couch (an Italian Baroque- though Harry didn’t know what that was), side by side, not close enough to be touching, but enough to feel each other's warmth, their comforting presence. The fabric was a nice, soft velvet. The inlaid white stones on the backrest were looking to be uncomfortable, but Harry wouldn’t have even noticed their presence unless he saw them. The couch was heaven: definitely not because Draco was next to him, and not because their hands were so close, next to each other on the fuzzy velvet. Harry could even brush their hands, seemingly on accident as he messed with the velvet.

Two beautiful, almost identical machines lay on the table before them. The cogs were visible, and it had intricate, though delicate looping bands sounding around it with carvings of various runes- though Harry wouldn't know what they meant since he never took ancient runes and they were very complex. Malfoy was an Unspeakable, it made sense he knew complicating stuff like that. They were quite small, slightly smaller than a galleon, though bigger than a sickle.

It looked nothing like the time turner during their third year. It definitely wasn’t an hourglass, that’s for sure.

Draco had explained to him the basics since the internal technicalities bored him and also confused the hell out of him. (Though he didn’t really mind the blonde going off, explaining the details. He became so passionate Harry didn’t even care what was being said. Draco’s lit up expression was intoxicating and those grand hand movements.) 

The two devices were interconnected. Neither able to exist without the other. If used right, they would hopefully preserve their memories, their magical aura and capabilities, their experiences, whilst their souls were moving through time, across millions and trillions of ‘Nano-particles’ through a kind of space vacuum to their preferred time. That is if it all worked how it should. 

Magic does work in weird ways sometimes and it was an uncontrollable variable.

"Do you think you’re ready? Are all you’re.." Draco asked whilst looping the first device through a purified silver chain and putting it around Harry’s neck. The blond was so close to him, the smell of vanilla taking over him again, making him feel drugged.

"Hmm... yeah. I left some things for the Weasley’s and everything else in the will for Teddy."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "That's your godson, right? My... cousin?"

Harry just nodded. Then Draco asked about Ginny in particular.

“Nothing special for the Weaselette?” 

“We broke up.” Trying to sound aloof, off-hand and definitely, not at all, interested in Draco’s reaction. After a few quiet moments, Draco readied Harry.

“We’ll do it in three.” Harry nodded, unable to do anything else.

And on three, they both turned the knobs and a sensation of being plunged in through cold water overtook him. His head felt so hot. And an unnatural brightness overtook his eyes, as though someone was pressing down on them, unforgivingly.


	5. Through the Chaos of-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: u know by now. checked the grammar+spellings.

_ tick  _

_ tick _

_ tick _

It was such an out-of-body experience, though in-body at the same time; like his mind was moving, his body remained immobile. Pinpricks of molten ice seemed to pepper his skin relentlessly and icicles of heat coursed through his eyes, through his brain. The pain was blinding, and it hurt so much that he could even pretend it wasn’t there.

A chasm seemed to have opened beneath his feet, the force and pressure dragging him, the weight pulling with towards it. Time passed, the ticking of a distant but invigorating presence. 

His heart thumped inside his chest. 

It was so loud. 

So fast. 

It hurt. 

_ tick-tick... TOCK ...tick-tick-tick-tick... TOCK _

Through all the brightness, he gingerly opened his eyes. Shiny, glittery things grazed upon his face, cheeks, body. Scraping past his eyes. He tried to blink out tears to stop all the pain. A losing battle. He fought.

And the ticking of Time went louder. Louder. LOUDER!

_ Tick-tick-tick-tick - TOCK- tick-tick-tick-tick- _

His hair flew, clothes fluttering against the metaphorical wind. Unstopping. Relentless… The light, a bluish glow in between all the pure, pure white light. Like the leftover waves of a supernova, it struck.

_ TickTickTickTickTickTickTickTickTickTick- _

And he was being pulled in, no stopping it, a black hole. His heart thundered inside his rib cage.

His heart, being pulled. His entire body, being pulled apart. The sensations, so raw. He reached out a hand; it felt of lead. So heavy. It dropped at his side.

The only word on his lips. “Draco.” 

They looked to be standing in front of a gate; a gate that was anywhere and everywhere. It was great and bigger than anything they had experienced or heard anyone experience before. It was just space, bright light: like the welcoming arms of heaven. 

Rolling waves of blackish wisps seemed to cascade it: surrounding them. Like the sweeping tendrils of a midnight curtain. They looked like bony hands of shadow, all desperate and grasping the air, pulling in. And the wisps swayed, unmoving. And like the gate, they too were everywhere.

The image, doubling, tripling, quadrupling but so clearly in mind; so puzzling. Greater than what human comprehension could grasp. Greater than his eyes could take.

The blond stood just a few steps ahead of him. Clothes flapping harshly against the wind. His strands of silvery blond hair was a mess. It was ungelled back. His eyes were closed and his arms were open above his waist, as though wanting to embrace the universe. He looked to be muttering under his breath. Whispering words so fast, so quickly. His chest heaved up, down, up, down. Sweat trickled down, past his brows.

The glistening drop rolling down his face. Harry’s eyes zoomed in on it, tracing its path. Moving past the shimmer of skin. Then from his chin, the droplet fell.

With a tangible. Clinker. The sound of fragile glass shattering. And the time vacuum pursued them. Not leaving them. 

Back it dragged.

back

back

back

Forward

back

back

back

back

back

back

_ tick -TOCK- ticktickticktickticktick -TOCK- tickticktickticktick _

And as suddenly as it all began, Draco’s silver eyes snapped open. His muttering stopped. His eyes glowed with something: determination, hope and all things held dear.

Another shuddering breath was all it allowed them, in sync, before Light and Time and Hope and Space collided. The four forces, and maybe some, created a shock wave that sent the Earth in a visceral collapse of its axis. 

He could hope that it wasn’t damaging. Ignoring the fact that Hope was what brought them here.

After all, there was a reason Time wasn’t meant to be changed. A reason no one attempted to control those forces, greater than them.

***

From haziness of mind and clouded senses, muffled sounds and heaviness of the body, Harry Potter observed. Next to him, Draco Malfoy stood still, observing too. His eyes flitted over the scene before them.

They did not dare break the mutual silence.

Their figures had no body -at least, none physical- but were their souls at purest. Their ghostly halloos flickered against the walls of Madam Malkin’s whereupon a stool, stood a small Draco Malfoy.

The bell tinkled as it opened and another small child stepped in, shyly. Harry Potter. His hair was messier than ever and the muggle’s overgrown shirt hung loose and limp over his tiny, malnourished body.

“Hello. Hogwarts too?”

_ ticktick - TOCK - ticktick _

And again through the tunnel of time, it moved them. The little atoms of light shone and fluttered past them until, with a gasp, they stopped.

_ ticktick - TOCK - ticktick _

They both lunged for each other's hands the moment the lurching tunnel spat them out. Again, the Madam Malkin’s scene played out.

_ ticktick - TOCK - ticktick _

The door opened to the clinking of the bells and the noise from three kids. One of them was Harry Potter, no longer looking so malnourished, in fact, his face was glowing with happiness. The other two kids had the same mop of black hair, though they looked younger. “Boys! Stop running!” 

Then entered an older redhead, green eyes glowing: Lily. She held hands with James. They were both so happy.

The colours merged, haziness sweeping over them.

_ ticktick - TOCK - ticktick _

Harry stood shell-shocked next to the paralysed blond. What was happening? Though his voice no longer worked.

The next scene had a little Harry greeting little Draco more cheerfully and then Petunia came in, smiling a bit nostalgically at the place. A nicer Dudley came in, complaining in a friendly, teasing manner about how “it’s so unfair! How come you get to do all this magic hiby-jiby stuff!” Vernon came inside soon after, wearing a nicer smile than Harry ever knew.

_ ticktick - TOCK - ticktick _

Countless scenes passed before their eyes until both flickering souls could not have moved any closer together. Scene after scene of what happened and could have been.

_ ticktick - TOCK - ticktick _

A sister. 

Neville, a childhood friend. 

Sirius is his guardian. 

No Voldemort. 

_ ticktick - TOCK - ticktick _

Siblings

Draco, never born. 

Sirius running away with Remus. 

Andromeda’s death.

_ ticktick - TOCK - ticktick _

Harry’s baby sister. 

A more miserable Harry. 

A dead Lucius.

Voldemort, who ignored the prophecy; so no one vanquished him.

_ ticktick - TOCK - ticktick  _

Severus hiding from the war, only coming to adopt Harry, for Lily.

James marrying Sirius. 

Lily and Petunia making up. 

Harry, dying and Voldemort ruling.

_ ticktick - TOCK - ticktick _

Scene after scene after scene. And each time, the journey through the tunnel left them breathless. 

_ ticktickticktcik TICKTCIK _

_ TOCK _

With a shuddering gasp, he felt his soul merge with the body or memory of the little Harry in front of him. It was nicer than travelling through the tunnel to wherever they travelled to. This felt cooler. Refreshing. Though it did not calm his nerves or dissipate the seed of worry in his stomach.

It was like dipping inside of a cool lake during a boiling summer day. He felt the cool waves carry his soul as it dipped in further and further, integrated itself to the mind. It let the memories of the world’s Harry merge with his own. He felt his wild course of magic settle and surround him.

He felt Draco’s magic soothing him, calming him down and reflexively, he did the same. Their magic fit with each other like two hands, like the colours of an aurora swirling to eddies.

Once they settle in their newer, younger bodies, Draco smirks at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Hello. Hogwarts too?” He was so small and pale, the robes hanging off him as Madam Malkin worked around them, pinning the robes at the right places. It was adorable and loosened his senses a bit.

“Yes.” He replied with a slight smile. He could see the panic in the blonde’s eyes, and he was sure panic showed in his too. They needed to hyperventilate elsewhere. Preferably some place private.

His body here was - not malnourished at all. In fact, he felt really healthy and his eyes didn’t seem to need glasses, he could see perfectly. (Although his lightning scar was still there, unfortunately.) He didn’t wear clothes too big for him, he actually had very comfortable, fitting jeans and a shirt with a hoodie. Something a normal eleven-year-old would wear, well Muggle eleven-year-old.

The bells of the door tickled as it opened once again. This time letting in a boy, identical to him, who, instead of wearing a dark grey hoodie, wore a navy one. His eyes were the same hazel as his dad, James.

“Harry! There you are.” He stopped in front of him, cheeks red from running. “I thought we agreed to meet at the Quidditch shop!”

“Erm-”

His twin cut him off turning to Draco as though just seeing him. “Oh. Hello. I didn’t see you there. I’m Ethan.”

“It’s Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.” Oh no he didn’t. Glancing at his knowing glint though, Harry knew he did. He should have never introduced James Bond to him.

His twin -Ethan- seemed torn on whether to move away from Draco, demand if he watched James Bond, or stay utterly confused. So he just muttered, “Don’t you know who I am?”

“Mm…”

“I’m the Boy-Who-Lived! You’re the only one who hasn’t hounded me for an autograph!” 

Harry’s heart stopped. What? The new Boy-Who-Lived shook his head a bit, letting part of his hair fall away from his forehead where a jagged, sharp and pointy looking scar stood. It could have been heart shaped, only, instead of curving, it looked kind of like two triangles.

“Oh. Sorry. Was I meant to bow down to your greatness,” Draco said, placing a dramatic hand over his chest, “famous Boy-Who-Lived, Ethan Potter?” 

“Stop being a prat,” Harry muttered.

“Am I being too overwhelming for your conscience?” He fluttered his lashes. Harry just rolled his eyes, used to his antics.

Ethan coloured. “I -no- I meant - I was just surprised is all.” Turning to Harry, “come on. Are you nearly done?” He glanced at the composed blonde before looking into Harry’s eyes again, pleading, “please.” His eyes looked desperate now.

Harry frowned. “What’s wrong?” Oh, Merlin. He already felt protective of his twin.

“He’s a Malfoy. ”

Harry’s voice came out frosty, and his muscles tensed, “so.”

“Dad told us how all Malfoys are dangerous wizards. Slytherins.”

“Actually-” Draco got cut off by Lily coming inside with James.

“Darlings. Here you are.” She glared at her husband, “James here though you were at the Quidditch shop.” 

“Yeah. I was waiting there but Harry came to Madam Malkin’s again.”

James turned to his son. “Again? I thought we brought you your school robes yesterday, with Neville.”

Harry tried to look sheepish, thinking up a good excuse. He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to get the complete experience. Of shopping for my Hogwarts things myself.” He glanced down, making his cheeks heat on demand- it wasn’t hard. He just met his parents (and brother!) for the first time, “And I made a new friend, too,” moving his hands in Draco’s direction.

Draco just gave off a disarming, charming smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Potter, Lady Potter.” He did this weird, short bow, “I’m Draco Malfoy. Harry here is charming company.”

Whilst James tried to not react to the name, Ethan just looked away, out of the window.

Lily smiled warmly, “you must be Severus’ godson. He talks a lot about you.”

“You know Uncle Severus, Lady Potter?” curiosity lazed his voice.

She smiled a brighter smile, “yes. He’s a close friend. And please, Mrs Potter is fine.” She then looked at Harry, “Harry, are you nearly done? We wanted to see what pet you wanted to buy, and then your wands.”

Madam Malkin came over, “That’s you two done now, dears.” She packed the robes up and shrunk them.

Harry looked at Draco pleading, the blonde nodded in understanding. “I was about to head there as well.” Smiling at Harry, “we might as well go together.”

  
Harry grinned in return, “let’s.” Ignoring the anguished hisses of “-but mum-” and of “-honey-” and his mum’s adamant denials.


	6. A Novel Experience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here's the next chapter.  
> Enjoy.
> 
> Ps. Please, guys, stay safe. Covid is horrible.

Walking behind the Potter trio next to Draco, with Ethan in between his Lily and James in front of them, was a novel experience.

Whilst a single Potter could have concealed from the swarms of wizards and witches, seamlessly merged in them. Li- mum and Jame- dad (calling them will never fail to stun him) did a decent job keeping most people away, particularly because James turned out to still be an Auror here and could cut down the number of attempted assaults, yet, it was futile for the most fixated of the lot. 

Overall, it was less overpowering than from his own scene in the Leaky Cauldron back when he was eleven. Something he winced to even speculate about.

“They could just use a glamour to hide from the crowd,” Draco murmured. “It’d be smoother.”

Harry glanced around him hastily, amazement filling him. “I know. Shut up now and take this place in; I haven’t known it like this for such a long time.” The witches and wizards were still celebrating the release created by the aftermath of the war. Everyone looked at peace- free. The roads and shops were colourful and vibrant. Laughter tinkled around him and it was all so overwhelming but felt natural at the same time.

“Ethan Potter! The Boy-Who-Lived!” exclaimed a man who could have been intimidating if it wasn’t for his sincere grin. “It is an honour to _finally_ meet you -and your parents too- of course.” Ethan gave a constrained smile that looked more like a grimace and pulled Harry to the front by the hood whilst Draco slinked backwards, pushing his hood up. “And who’s this? You two look duplicates!”

“That’s ’cause he’s -you know- my twin,” Ethan’s icy stare became even colder, and both Lily and James looked worried at Harry. 

The man blinked once. Then blinked again. “You- your twin, you said. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you,” and he shook Harry’s hand eagerly, somewhat lost before walking away. They could hear him mutter under his breath, “… twin? What twin? Since when?”

“I still can’t believe people forget you’re my brother! It’s not fair!” Whilst Lily tried to shush him, James carried on his own muttering. “Why do they forget him? We’ve been doing everything, but the media openly forgets. This is -”

Well, Harry shrugged mentally, he was fine with that. He wanted to be just Harry for once and the fact that they ignored him let him collect his newer memories. And Draco was next to him. Harry just wanted to pounce on the blonde and demand some answers. He wanted to go to a quiet corner and discuss in hushed tones what their next moves were going to be.

Lily seemed to have noticed his discontent and gave him space. It was nice to know his mum could pick up his feelings, even if it made him feel like tearing up with want. He could have had all that and more if not for Voldemort. It would have been nice to grow up with that. He shook his head. Draco had made it all possible now. His heart ached with intense feelings he wanted to know and was frankly terrified of understanding at the same time and it stabbed him.

His memories of this world’s Harry were -strange, they felt his own and yet they weren’t. They felt… contradicting. Confusing. He tried not to look into it too deeply without Occlumency shields - he couldn’t have the two sets of memories mixed up. 

Birthday parties and Christmas showed the Boy-Who-Lived receiving countless an abundance of gifts. Piles and piles of gifts wrapped underneath one of the greenest trees - and then sharing it all with Harry... His parents gifting them and treating them equally. No favouritism. They never tried making him feel unwanted or unloved. Sirius and Remus, living together, their Godparents, so involved with the family. They were part of the family. Or them going outside together and spending time together and- it was perfect.

His brother grasping his shoulder proudly whilst facing the crowd: it united them. Even though he appreciated his family’s efforts, he still rather enjoyed being unnoticed. He appeared a bit reserved. Here, Neville was a close friend of theirs. Like the three musketeers: it was always Harry, Ethan and Neville.

Memories of learning to fly a broom with his dad whilst his mum relaxed underneath a shady tree reading a book and Ethan glaring at his own broom swept through his mind. Apparently, Ethan wasn’t a fan of heights, preferring to play with Potions -mostly to create explosions or ‘on-the-way-prank-liquids’ as he called them.

Scattered here and there were half-formed thoughts of Death-Eater families, bad Slytherins and good Gryffindors his mum kept on refuting most of the claims. 

_‘… You weren’t exactly the nicest Gryffindor at the start though, were you James?..’_

_‘… What do you mean! Some Slytherins were great. Severus is always nice to me …’_

_‘… You were worse than just a prankster sometimes, Sirius. And Remus agrees with me. But you have grown up or you wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near your godsons…’_

It was wholesome and brought a sad smile to his face.

“I’ll just wait at Florian’s.” Lily grimaced, looking at Magical Menagerie. It wasn’t a pretty sight. “We can have a treat (she blatantly ignores Ethan’s little cheer) after you choose your pets, and then we’ll look at your wands. Is that okay with you, Draco?”

“Of course.” He turned to face Harry, a mischievous smirk taking over his face. “Ready to go in?” 

He was already making his way to the door. No one would have seen Draco hesitating slightly at the entrance, stepping backwards for a second, grossed out by the smell before composing himself, but Harry did. 

He brought himself closer and whispered, “second-guessing yourself, Malfoy?” His eyes shone with challenge. He returned the challenged look with a fierce, “You wish, Potter,” and strutted inside. Harry bit his cheek to stop his snicker.

It was a store with creatures of all kinds stuck in the same place for decades and not regularly cleaned. It skunk. Owls flew overhead, screeching and fighting in a corner for a live rat that a lithe black raven then snatched away. Colourful toads sat, gulping down flies and bugs of all kinds. Kneazles and cats alike chased after one another, hissing and scratching. Harry was sure he even saw a ghost-like creature glowing a bluish-purple, sending out a trail of slowly fading embers like a patronus. The wild flapping of a vibrant parrot that perched next to the red, gulping frogs snatched his attention.

Ethan ran to the owls with James following him, after glancing at Draco in suspicion for a long moment.

Draco, next to him, gaped at the scene in alarm, eyes wide. “What horror did you bring me to?” He muttered, tilting his face towards Harry’s direction. “Let’s just go to -a much nicer- and cleaner store I know. The kinds of animals they must sell in this dump- I just...” He trailed off with an anguished cry when a sand lizard pawed his foot. 

Its toe camouflaged into the same dark tone of his shoe, changing back to its sandy colour when it pulled back. Again and again. All the while, looking at Draco’s red face innocently. This time Harry didn’t stop his laughter, doubling over when Draco glared at him.

“Oh-okay. Okay,” wiping tears off with the tips of his fingers and becoming serious again, “we need to talk - and I think that larger-than-usual-gecko likes you.”

“It’s a magical one- though I can’t say I met one this friendly. Doesn’t mean I like it.” The gecko seemed to wilt under that. Harry came over to pick it up, caressing it lightly, chuckling. “Besides, I already have an owl, Exordium. And we are going to leave- right now- to a much better store.” 

“Hedwig is here though.” His head was zooming past the hordes of owls on a dusty perch. The gecko climbed up his arms to rest on his right shoulder. His feet took him to the only patch of snow-white feathers in the store that caught his gaze, his hands moving forward to stroke her. “Hedwig-” eyes like blue fire glared down at him. Cold, unlike Hedwig’s warm amber eyes. Draco placed his hand on Harry’s own and pulled in back. The white owl had ruffled his feather and screeched out a warning. Another part of Harry seemed to break. “ _She’s not here_.”

Indistinguishable expressions flicked past Draco’s face. Hesitantly he said, “... It’s a new start, Harry. Hedwig… she’s -gone- and it’s okay… We can start over. We can build _new_ memories together. Wasn’t this one reason we came here?” He grinned. “You have a family now, Harry. You can finally have a good childhood - and since the media’s not in your way for once -”

“-Because I have a twin brother who’s apparently the Boy-Who-Lived-” 

“- it means you won’t be under constant scrutiny. Don’t think I haven’t seen the way they seem to ignore you here. I don’t even remember any mentions of you in my duplicate’s memories!”

Harry exhaled and said sarcastically, “thank you, Draco. That makes it so much better.”

“At least it made you less tense, prat,” What Harry would do to get rid of that infuriating smirk!

“This is- just-” When he opened his eyes, his green eyes gleamed with seriousness and some confusion. “Though it doesn’t explain how I have a m-mum and a d-dad and a twin here.” He wasn’t sure if they were _his_ parents. His parents had died for him, sacrificing their lives for him. The Lily and James and Ethan in this world were strangers to him. He might as well have stolen the corpse of this world’s Harry! “The world is too different to be ours. I thought the machine would take us back in time? And how do I still have a scar?” The gecko flicked its tongue on Harry’s earlobe and Harry, shivering slightly, began caressing it.

Draco hesitated and spoke slowly, examining the now dark grey lizard, “I’m unsure about your scar. Pott- Ethan had one too.” He frowned, shaking his head slightly, “But I think - well, the machine - it’s based heavily on wish (and hope) magic along with other notions I like to study. Wish magic is a concept not explored too well because of its arcane and unpredictable results, so it was mostly all primary research and theory. I guess that’s what happened. We relied on _too much_ wish. ‘The new start.’ The happy, new start and that’s what we got. Though it means we have to work out exactly what happened here. Like how your parents are alive and Ethan the one with the scar.”

Harry nodded. “Dumbledore told me it was my mother’s love from her sacrifice that protected me from the killing curse. Something else must have happened here that _didn’t_ need a sacrifice, or something…” He trailed off, “I’m not good at theory. That was Hermione’s suit.”

“And don’t you think I know it.” seeing Harry drop, Draco quickly added, “though what you said sounds logical. We have a month to figure some things out and then, to Hogwarts.”

“How’re me meant to-”

“Harry, come on. We need to go now. Dad’s paying for Lord Owlton,” Ethan said with a bright grin. A tawny owl perched on a big metal perch that was floating next to him. “I know! He’s pretty average, normal, and most importantly… _forgettable._ That’s what makes him perfect! People will definitely keep an eye out for my owl, and since I don’t want them to notice, I won’t help them to. So a perfectly normal, average and owlistic owl is the best solution. And did I mention it’s _forgettable_? It’ll be able to camouflage.” 

“You’re not actually going to name it that, are you?” Harry said sceptically whilst Draco did his best to remain uninterested at the proceedings. 

“I’m still thinking of a name.” Glancing at the resting lizard on Harry’s shoulder, “did you choose your pet? I thought you wanted an owl?”

Harry glanced at Draco’s glare and replied, “Nah. I think I’ll get the lizard.” He, once again ignoring Draco’s annoyance, made his way to the counter where James seemed to expect him. The saleswoman (who looked quite bored) glanced up suddenly, getting somewhat excited.

“Oh! For that specific lizard you’ll want to get this reptile terrarium. We just got them shipped last week!” She flicked her wand and a glass cage floated to the counter. “They have come with a new update and it’s just marvellous! It’ll keep him nice and happy. The temperature inside of it changes to your pet’s needs - larger on the inside, of course! You’ll also want to get some pet treats! I really recommend the special treat mixture of insects and bugs: spiders, worms, flies, dragonflies, butterflies -really, lizards love them!”

“Yes. It’s fine. We’ll take it.” James stepped out, fingers digging inside his pouch.

*******

Lily had ordered ice-creams for them. Now they sat around a circular table.

James and Ethan were discussing the merits of using powered rat’s spleens for a prank potion. Lily kept on interjecting since James never kept safety as a priority.

Getting their wands wasn’t exactly how they thought it’ll be. Harry had hoped they would stroll in and stroll right out: himself with a holly and phoenix feather wand, and Draco with his unicorn hair and hawthorn wand.

Thing is, their magic had grown and changed. It had stretched and compressed, alliances were formed and broken, loyalty was lost and gained between wands of different kinds. Being Masters of the Elder wand and travelling between dimensions and time probably had something to do with this change, too.

And although the wands felt fulfilling, he would always miss the feel of his first ever wand. If he thought clearly, he could see the grooves and the scratches on the wood made over time in his mind, he could feel its magic coursing through him. A pang of nostalgia hit him hard.

“It really makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” a melancholy smile adorned Draco’s face, “how far we’ve come since first year. I thought I would have gotten used to not using my wand anymore, thanks to you, but every time, it hits differently and I can’t help myself but to miss it.” Harry’s raising outburst of _he returned the bloody wand_ suddenly diminished. He slumped down a bit, suddenly tired, but didn’t reply.

Harry’s throat caught when the doors opened to reveal Snape. He ran his dark eyes across the store, lips curling in contempt that increased when he saw the Potters, becoming neutral when he glanced at Lily, before they landed on Draco fondly. With a snap of his cloak, Snape strolled forwards, “Draco, there you are. Your mother was starting to get worried.” 

“Uncle Severus?” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “what are you doing here?”

“Do not make me repeat myself. Your mother was just about to call the entire Auror force. She believed you were… kidnapped.” His dark eyes went past Ethan uninterestedly; James -whose fingers were digging into the skin of his palm; Lily, who he nodded at calmly. He glanced at Harry suspiciously and then at Draco askance, “What would your father say if he heard you were gallivanting in such company?”

Harry didn’t know what to feel. Whilst the man had been horrible to him during his Hogwarts years, he also protected him in ways he didn’t know. It didn’t excuse his actions, but he was also his mother’s best friends in his own Hogwarts years and there must have been a reason Lily spent time with him, right? He was sure Snape could sense something from him as he kept looking at him skeptically now and then from his conversation with Draco. Although he _did look_ at Draco weirdly a few times.

“Right. We best be off or your father will start searching for you. And that would be most… unfortunate.” Draco winced as he sat up. His eyes seemed to say, _we’ll speak again soon._ Harry hoped his eyes read, _you’ll be alright._ Draco would return to Malfoy Manor. A place he wanted to avoid at all costs. 

“Thank you for the dessert, Mrs Potter, Mr Potter. Gook bye, Boy-Who-Lived.” Hearing Ethan being addressed with that title made him feel weird and nervous. Confused, even. He didn’t like the title, but it still felt like it was a _part of him_ and though he had grown up, he wouldn’t want anyone going through the same things he did? “Well, it was nice to meet you, Harry.” They shook hands, and Snape, with a hand clasping Draco’s shoulder, steered him out of the store.

“So… he was an interesting young man, wasn’t he?” Lily asked James, “very polite.” He just grunted in reply. Ethan was staring intently at the melted gloop in his bowl, as though it held the secrets of the universe.

*******

The portkey took them to -not Godric’s Hollow- but to a stunning, large cottage house. Vines and foliage encased the walls, and flowers of vibrant colours popped everywhere. He guessed the love for flowers was the only thing in common between Lily and Petunia. The cottage was at the centre of a vast expanse of land. Not a building was to be seen from here.

The grass was _so very green_ ; the pathway comprising differently sized rocks were slotted together artistically.

The portkey took them to -not Godric’s Hollow- but to a stunning, large cottage house. Vines and foliage encased the walls, and flowers of vibrant colours popped everywhere. He guessed the love for flowers was the only thing in common between Lily and Petunia. The cottage was at the centre of a vast expanse of land. Not a building was to be seen from here.

The grass was _so very green_ ; the pathway comprising differently sized rocks were slotted together artistically. He wanted to explore the place so badly, but let himself be guided inside. None of the feeling of cluelessness he was expecting came. His body knew the place. It was familiar and comforting.

The sun went down a long time ago, moonlight silvered the cottage as darkness enveloped them in their bubble. Harry, tired and sore, dragged himself up stairs he knew led to his room instinctively. Too exhausted to look around before changing into his pyjamas, crashing straight in his bed and just about wiggle inside his duvet.

He would explore this place. Tomorrow and the day after and the day after that. Right now, he needed to rest.

With a yawn, he welcomed the arms of sleep and dreams.


End file.
